The Loss of a Child
The months following the death of our son Stephen Paul Couvillion from accidental drug intoxication can only be described as “a parent’s worst nightmare” (quite literally) thus, a hint at part of the title of this small collection of writings. This collection describes the journey from a nightmare to a new place, called “trying to feel normal again,” through a struggle to regain joy (title hint). The months following Stephen’s death have been at times, disorienting, bleak, lonely and isolating, filled with anxiety and fear and anger, and always exhausting. Maybe that most describes this time of grieving, just plain exhausting, physically, mentally, and spiritually. Since the writings are dated and ordered chronologically, the reader may recognize some sort of internal struggle coming to completion within the writer, or maybe not.
In the spectrum of human experiences, the loss of a child has to be one of the most devastating. What is most striking about it is the loss of a future not yet lived out and the burying of someone who should have buried you. Your child is supposed to bury you, not the other way around. Considered rare in western culture, the loss of a child is not a well-known experience, war-related deaths excluded, not like burying a parent. Because it is rare, those who have not experienced it have no frame of reference with which to connect with this sort of grief. Consequently, many say the stupidest things, quite accidentally and innocently without even knowing it. In the past few months, we heard it all: “Well at least you had him for 29 years.”; “He’s in a better place.”; “He’s at peace now.”; “Are you over it yet?” and the standard “How are you doing?” Others just don’t make eye contact or avoid you altogether.
Furthermore, our son died after taking heroin into the vein of his arm. When the Temple University police and hospital personnel called separately to inform us (my wife Kathy and me) as we slept quietly in our bed in Baton Rouge, after the nauseating fog of disbelief dissipated, I actually had to look up how to spell “heroin” in the old Merriam-Webster dictionary in my bookcase. I just could not believe this. “My son died from heroin intoxication?” That’s what the tape played in my head over and over for several weeks. My small-town upbringing just did not include that manner of death as being within the realm of possibilities for my son. Not my son. Not Stephen. I kept telling myself, “That’s what happens to drug addicts.” It took a while for me to understand that a drug addict is what Stephen had become at the end of his 17-year struggle with mental and physical afflictions. This fact has been particularly hard to take.
However, the greatest joy (and I’m not just writing this to plaster over the pain and find meaning in this chaos) from this experience, however, is the surprise at how caring and understanding some people can be in a tragedy like ours and in having hope that Stephen is in God’s eternal Kingdom. Kathy and I are deeply indebted to those who have not looked away or said anything stupid, especially Kevin Murphy, Ernie and Gretchen Wroten, Pastor Kim Little-Brooks of the Lutheran Church of Our Saviour in Baton Rouge, Joel and Linda Bankston, Sarah and Rebecca Brown, Mike and Robyn Nettles, Matt Cosper, Tina Adams, Susan Behrens, Dr. Gilbert Chase Robinson, Jr., Dr. Thomas Senor of the University of Arkansas, and members of the faculty and staff of Temple University in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, especially Drs. Nate Norment, Sonja Peterson-Lewis and Nilgun Anadolu-Okur, who so mercifully and faithfully reached out to us in this tragedy.
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the lost of my daughter yasmein
On the seventh of november my daugther yasmein rings me to stay at her friends itold her to come home but she wouldnt at the end of the phone call is …
The Last Time We Saw You
The last time we saw you three years ago,
You were wrapped in plastic and so very cold.
Your lips were blue and your skin was green,
The curl of your …
The Loss of Our Son Michael John
Our son Michael John committed suicide, Sept.3,2012. I am having the worse time dealing with it. I here the same words from family, and friends, he's in …
A recent conversation after receipt of Stephen’s full autopsy report went something like this with my Mom Lucy. “Hey, Mom, we got the cause of death from …
Sarah's Question was written around 9/1/10. It is the first chapter of my book called, "Nightmare to Normal."
Here are a few paragraphs from that piece. …
Maybe I expected something different to happen today. After all, regardless of the fact that our Son is dead, this being the 8-month anniversary of his …
My beloved son died yesterday March 2nd from a heart attack. He was 46. I can't help but feel mad and numb at the same time. Why I ask and yet maybe the …
Father's Day Fossils
It is Father’s Day 2012 and Kathy, my wife of 34 years, is out of town with our 33-yr old daughter Sarah. They have driven the 630 miles from wet and …
You call to me, Sweet Ecstasy, and in Your Voice I hear, the quiet rush of flapping wings and of Your Love so dear.
You call to me, Sweet Ecstasy, as …
The Lucky Ones Fall Off
"The Lucky Ones Fall Off" was written on approximately 9/15/10. It is the second chapter of my book called "Nightmare to Normal." A few selected paragraphs …
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